Spun
by sidewalk serfer girl
Summary: A rather unapologetic letter from the former prince of the Southern Isles is the catalyst for a life-changing meeting between Elsa and the hot-blooded miscreant who tried to steal her crown. Elsa x Hans.
1. Prologue

Hi,

I'm not entirely sure what to write here as an introduction to this story. I've decided to do a little venturing outside of the box by writing outside of the anime fandom I've become so comfortable in. I've never written anything with fantasy elements before, but I wanted to challenge myself, and I hope it will result in something you'll enjoy.

Remember when Anna warned Hans that he was no match for Elsa? I think he's the perfect match for Elsa. Just not the kind of match Anna had in mind when she said it.

Thanks so very much for reading. :)

ssg.x.

**Prologue**

There's method in my madness  
There's no logic in your sadness  
You don't gain a single thing from misery  
Take it from me

You've got it all  
You lost your mind in the sound  
There's so much more  
You can reclaim your crown  
You're in control  
Rid of the monsters inside your head  
Put all your faults to bed  
You can be king again

**oooOOOooo**

Royal Highness, Queen Elsa of Arendelle,

In response to your letter (your final, I hope), let me be perfectly clear; there will be no apologies from me, nor do I seek your forgiveness. I'm sure my family has already taken it upon themselves to apologize for my many sins, or what they perceive to be my many sins.

It is still unclear whether my title as a prince of the Southern Isles, and the duties and privileges that go along with that title, have been stripped permanently, or if they've merely been suspended. A kingdom is no better than its king, they say. Even as the thirteenth son, even with the distance between myself and the throne being so vast, I'm still a representative of the king. You can be sure that I have, and will continue to be punished for my misdeeds for as long as my father and his subjects see fit, and in the manner of the kingdom's choosing.

You will receive no apologies or excuses for my actions, your highness. My fate is now bound to my father, his law, his subjects. But my words, my thoughts, the blood in my veins and the heart that rules it, remain my own. I am not sorry for making an attempt on your throne, and you can be sure I never will be. As a ruler, you shouldn't be so naive to think that wars will not be fought, whether it is between armies of thousands, or armies of one. My only regret is that my arrogance got the better of me. The true hero to my villainy was my own hubris.

Due to its nature, this letter may never find its way to you. But, thankfully, that is no longer of any significance to me. Whether it reaches your hands or not, as far as I'm concerned, it has served its purpose. While it is highly unlikely that I will ever be a free man in the way I always wished I would be one day, I now consider myself to be one in at least one respect.

Yours,

Formerly Prince Hans of the Southern Isles

P.S. Bite me.

* * *

Lyrics quoted above are from Lauren Aquilina's "King".


	2. Something Human

So,

A have a question for you - Do you prefer shorter chapters frequently or longer chapters not-quite-so frequently?

I hope you're well, and thanks so much for reading!

ssg.x.

**CHAPTER 1  
**SOMETHING HUMAN

It was a gorgeous spring day in Arendelle. The sun was out and the fresh air was deliciously revitalizing, as evidenced by the number of townspeople bustling in and out of the village square so early on a Sunday morning. It was a wonderful thing to see, but Elsa couldn't help but feel a sad little twinge in her heart. The kingdom was clearly trying to make up for lost time after the endless winter she'd inadvertently set off before abandoning her subjects just a few short months ago.

Anna herself had just returned from a walk with Kristoff through the woods and along the perimeter of the fjord. She'd left a trail of muddy footprints throughout the castle as she ran from room to room, excitedly calling out Elsa's name. When Anna had burst through her chamber doors, Elsa couldn't help but notice the look of dismay on her sister's face.

"Geez, Elsa. Haven't you left your room _at all_ today?"

Elsa shrugged her shoulders and quickly tried to hide the contents of her hands in the skirt folds of the teal dress she was wearing. Elsa wasn't quick enough for Anna, though, who swooped past her, startling her and causing the crumpled up letter she'd been trying to hide to fall to the floor.

There was a long, silent pause between the two sisters before they both dove for the balled up piece of paper at the same time. Their skulls clunked together dully, stunning Elsa just long enough for Anna to scoop up the letter. She crossed the room and flopped down on Elsa's bed, opening up the letter and squinting to try to read it through all the crags and creases.

"He didn't," Anna gasped.

"He did."

"He _didn't_!"

"He _did_."

"He di-"

"Anna, stop it!" Elsa laughed, picking up a book she had been trying to read earlier in an effort to get her mind off of –

"Hans actually said 'Bite me'?" Anna asked incredulously, hanging backwards over the side of her sister's bed, rereading the letter, albeit upside-down this time. "Good to see he's using his punishment as a time for self-reflection and personal growth."

Elsa tersely turned a page in her book, "What did you expect? He's an arrogant, manipulative sociopath."

"The way this letter reads, the only thing that's done any growing is the size of his head," Anna replied, wryly, crushing the letter between her hands.

Elsa glanced at her sister over the top of her book. Anna truly was something. That punch in the jaw she served Hans must have been incredibly cathartic. There were some days, like today for instance, when she would actually be able to crack a joke or two about her faux fiancé. Whenever Elsa thought about Hans and what he almost got away with, however, nothing within inches of her fingers was guaranteed any safety from the freeze. Every day Elsa was getting better and better at keeping her powers from being ruled solely by her emotions. Rather, her powers had become an extension of them, the same way a paintbrush would act as an extension of an artist's emotions. And, like an artist, Elsa had learned how to keep her paint, as it were, on the canvas.

Yes, Elsa was well on her way to becoming the quintessential poster girl for self-control.

"Elsa."

"Hm?"

"You're snowing."

Except when it came to thoughts of Hans.

Elsa looked up. Sure enough, a light snow had settled on the crown of her head. Elsa sighed and rolled her eyes, looking embarrassed. Anna smiled warmly at her as she stood up from the bed. Elsa put down her book and turned to look at her reflection in the vanity's mirror, frowning. Anna approached her and started dusting the snowflakes off the top of her platinum-haired head and shoulders.

"Thanks," Elsa said sheepishly.

"If it's bothering you so much, why haven't you thrown it out yet?" Anna asked, her tone just a little too reproachful for her taste just then. Elsa bristled noticeably. Anna's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Elsa. It's just that I hate that he's still on your mind. It's been beautiful outside, the townspeople have been asking about you, and the staff – they worry about you. But it's like that man's still got you locked up in a cell."

Suddenly distracted, Anna's eyes widened and she bounded across the room towards the windows. "A cell with _fabulous_ new drapes! When did you get these? Do I get new drapes, too?" she asked eagerly, grabbing a panel of the lightly-patterned champagne curtains and wrapping herself up in it.

Elsa giggled. Anna did, too. She approached Elsa and held Hans' letter out to her. Elsa took it and began trying to smooth it out against her lap, hoping it would still be legible after being crumpled up for the second time that day, though still not entirely sure why she cared so much. She hesitated.

"Anna, if it means so much to you, I'll get rid of —" she began carefully.

Anna smiled, wrapping her arms around her sister and meeting her bright blue eyes in the mirror. "No, Elsa. You keep it. Just…don't keep your reasons to yourself for too long, okay?"

Elsa nodded, "Promise."

"Good," Anna replied, satisfied that Elsa was telling her the truth. She straightened up and flexed her fingers, cracking a few knuckles. "If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen. The cooks are going to show me how to bake bread today."

"Call me if you need me to put any fires out," Elsa replied drolly.

"Har har," Anna sniffed before flouncing out of the room and closing the doors behind her.

Alone again, Elsa reread the letter for the thousandth time.

Why _was_ she keeping it?

Hans was a jerk. More than a jerk - a malevolent, soulless monster who had almost succeeded in killing both Elsa and her beloved sister. But there was something in that letter that had been eating away at her. Buried deep in all that arrogance and feigned apathy was something human.

More than human.

Something like… herself.

_While it's highly unlikely that I will ever be a free man in the way I always wished I would be one day, I now consider myself to be one in at least one respect._

"A free man…" Elsa murmured. "A free man in the way I always wished I would be one day."

Whatever could that mean?


	3. The Sins of One

So,

Is it spring where you are yet? I need March to pick a season and stick with it. Now THIS has been an eternal winter.

Hope you're warm and well. :)

ssg.x.

**CHAPTER 2  
**THE SINS OF ONE

Obsessing over Hans' letter had made it more and more difficult to concentrate on what turned out to be a particularly gruelling day social-wise. And, unfortunately, that afternoon there just weren't enough Annas to pick up Elsa's slack.

Certain wings of the palace had been opened for tours on Sundays for some time now. Usually Elsa was more than happy to do the whole meet and greet thing, especially when Anna was around to take some of the pressure off her. Anna was so much better with people than she was, and she was a natural with children, probably because in so many ways she was still a child herself. She'd organize floor games and singing circles, leaving the adults to Elsa. She tried her best to remain engaged, but couldn't stop herself from wondering what each subject's personal struggles were during the eternal winter. She imagined their children shivering and starving under thin blankets, husbands unable to work, wives trying to pull a decent meal together with whatever scraps were left in their cupboards.

Okay, maybe the grim pictures she painted were a little over-the-top, but she knew she had royally messed up (no pun intended), and meeting people during these tours could often still be a painful reminder of that.

Hans crept into her thoughts. She'd been thinking so much about that letter of his that it couldn't be helped. For all his treachery, Hans _had_ made sure the people of Arendelle were well taken care of during the winter. Yes, it was all part of his slimy plan to win the people's affection, but a small part of her had to grudgingly admit that she was glad he had put real effort into keeping the citizens from freezing to death, even if nothing else about him was real. He'd pulled the wool over their eyes, but the wool had kept them warm. That's what mattered.

Elsa decided to turn in early that night. Gerda, as was her way, fussed and fretted that she might be coming down with something. To make Gerda happy, Elsa drank the extra cup of tea she had insisted she have. She brought extra blankets to her private chambers in case she felt cold, which Elsa couldn't help but find funny. Elsa didn't realize quite how tired she was until her head hit the pillow. Before leaving the room, Gerda touched her forehead to check for a fever one last time. Elsa, eyes still closed, smiled.

"Thank you, Gerda," she said softly.

"You're most welcome, Your Highness." she replied kindly, her hand brushing her cheek lightly, affectionately.

The door was still ajar when Kai approached Gerda in the hallway.

"How is the queen? I was told she retired early. Is she alright?"

"I'm wondering that myself. I felt silly for thinking it, but can she catch cold? Can she come down with a fever? I'm trying to remember if she's ever been ill. No matter. I'm going to insist to her that she let us call in a doctor to have a look at her. Queen or no queen, I won't take 'no' for an answer."

Elsa brought a fist to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Poor Gerda. Always so worried.

"To be safe, we should keep an eye on her," Kai agreed. "During the open house today there was talk of a rather devastating outbreak of influenza across the Southern Isles. So many merchants and dignitaries have been in and out of the city over the past couple of weeks. Who knows what they might have brought with them."

Elsa's eyes opened. She bit her lip. _God, no._ The last thing Arendelle needed after everything it had been through recently was an influenza outbreak.

"Now here's something for you - rumour has it that snake Prince Hans isn't long for this world. He's been sequestered in a chamber in the palace for weeks now," Kai whispered.

"I hate to say it, but it's the least he deserves," Gerda replied. "God may strike me down for saying so, but that's just how I feel. When I think of how close we came to losing her Highness and the Princess…"

Gerda pulled the chamber door closed, plunging Elsa into darkness. She stared wide-eyed at the canopy above her bed, still gnawing at her bottom lip.

_Hans is dying?_

But that doesn't make sense, she thought. The letter mentioned nothing about an illness. She ran through it again in her head, having read it so many times that it was almost committed entirely to memory now.

_Okay, this is silly. It's nothing more than a rumour. If he was dying, the last thing he'd be doing is writing a letter to me of all people._

And if it wasn't a rumour, if he _was_ dying, so what? Like Gerda said – it was the least the man deserved.

Elsa closed her eyes again and lay quietly for a few minutes, but sleep remained just out of her reach. She pulled her pillow over her head and pressed either side of it against her ears, but it didn't do a thing to silence the voices.

One voice was louder than all the others.

_Don't be the monster they fear you are._

She wanted to forget he ever existed, but, much to her chagrin, Hans' words had stayed with her long after he and any threats he posed to the throne were gone. There was no doubt in her mind that he was merely playing a part when he'd said what he said. Every word out of his mouth had been a lie, after all. But how could he have predicted that those particular words would resonate so strongly with her? How could he read her so perfectly in those frenzied moments? Did he draw from personal experience, or was he just _that_ good at improvising?

Hans was a murderous brute, but she didn't want him to die. She didn't want anyone to die. She decided she needed to find out how much of this "talk" Kai spoke of was fact and how much of it was fiction. The royal family of the Southern Isles didn't love its subjects any less than Elsa loved hers. If there was an outbreak, and there was something she could do to help them, she needed to step forward and do it.

She couldn't let many suffer for the sins of one.

Not again.


	4. Spectres of Death

So,

First off, thanks so much for the lovely reviews! I'm very grateful for them! And thank you also for answering the question I posed before the last chapter. Shorter, more frequent chapters it is!

Hope you're well! I also hope this is mostly typo-free. :)

Thanks so much for reading.

ssg.x.

**CHAPTER 3  
**SPECTRES OF DEATH

Kristoff decided he loved Anna most when she was being incredibly stubborn. It showcased just about every one of her best qualities. She was clever, strong, loyal and funny. And beautiful, he remarked, as he watched her face flush and her beautiful eyes narrow angrily. He was sure he'd have preferred he wasn't the one on the other end of all that stubbornness just then, though.

"Traitor," she spat, nimbly climbing up the back of the coach that was to take Queen Elsa to the docks. Once on the imperial, she started swinging her sister's luggage over the side. Kristoff watched all three bags hit the ground for the fourth time in half an hour. Amused, he watched Anna grabbing one of the handles of Queen Elsa's trunk. It was clearly too heavy for her, but damned if she wasn't determined to get the thing to join the rest of her sister's things on the ground. When pulling the trunk wasn't getting her anywhere, she tried pushing it, then lifting it. Finally, she flopped down beside it, completely out of breath.

"Are you done?" Kristoff asked, smirking. Anna glared at him.

"You know, I thought for sure you'd be on my side."

Kristoff climbed up the back of the coach and sat down beside her. He tugged gently on one of her braids. She swatted his hand away. Kristoff leaned against the side of the trunk and sighed.

"There are sides?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "Of _course_ there are sides. Elsa wants me to be on board with her travelling to the Influenza Isles, aka Prince Homicide McManiac territory. _Alone_."

Kristoff shrugged his shoulders. "See? That's where you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?" Anna asked, looking hopeful.

"Wrong about Queen Elsa," Kristoff said. "She doesn't want you to be on board. She's going whether you like it or not."

"Oh, that's real nice," Anna muttered. Kristoff chuckled.

"Come on, Anna. She's a big girl who knows how to take care of herself. He Who Shall Not Be Named is locked up, and Queen Elsa has met Mommy and Daddy McManiac more than once since then."

"And what about the influenza?"

"You yourself told me the doctor called your sister a 'miracle of science'. He truly believes she can't contract influenza. Kai and Gerda both confirmed that they can't recall her falling ill once since _birth_. Whatever this thing is inside of her, it's protected her."

Kristoff leapt from the top of the coach, landing below on both feet with a thud. He reached his arms up for Anna. She turned her head, refusing to look at him.

"What if something happens to the ship?"

"She'll freeze the water."

"What if she gets kidnapped?"

"She'll freeze the kidnappers."

Anna looked at him through the corner of her eye. Kristoff smiled, gesturing to his open arms with his chin. She started to laugh, finally obliging him by leaping off the carriage and into his arms. He closed his eyes and held her tightly for one long, silent moment. She sighed happily.

"I'm just scared, you know. If something ever happened to her…"

"I know, Anna. I know."

"I wish I could go with her," she said softly.

"Anna, you're a strong, independent girl—"

"A strong, independent _woman_," Anna corrected.

"A strong, independent _woman_," Kristoff revised, stroking her hair, "but you can't bat influenza off with a guitar."

"I know," she said. She stood up straight and held her hands up in front of her. "Okay, fine. She can go."

Kristoff gave her a lopsided grin. "Yes. Because you clearly have a choice in the matter."

Anna ignored him. Once again, she climbed up the back of the coach and onto the imperial. For half a second he thought she was going to try to have another go at Queen Elsa's trunk, maybe try to heave it over the side and crush him with it. Instead, she dangled her legs over the side and casually leaned against the trunk, looking down at him with a cheeky little smile on her face.

God, he loved her.

Anna clapped her hands, drawing him out of his trance. "Hey! Don't just stand there staring, you big Scandinavian goon! Pass me a bag! My sister's got a boat to catch!"

**oooOOOOooo**

"What do you think about this one?"

Elsa slowly turned around in a silk cerulean day dress, the sixth dress she had put on that day in an attempt to find something suitable to wear for her first visit to the castle the royal family of the Southern Isles inhabited. She knew how to dress for funerals, but how did one dress for a viral outbreak? And if the King and Queen's youngest son was dying, she couldn't very well show up dressed like a spectre of death.

Gerda nodded her approval. "This one's lovely, Your Highness. But then I've liked all the dresses you've tried on."

"You're very kind, Gerda. But this is a very delicate situation. I need to look solemn, but I don't want to look like a funeral director. At the same time, I don't want to look too…festive," Elsa said, wringing her hands together, her nerves starting to get the better of her. "What about my hair? Does my hair look okay?" She picked up the front of her dress so as not to trip over the hem as she walked quickly to her full-length floor mirror. She slipped her feet into the shoes that waited for her there and leaned in close to her reflection to get a good look at her hair, which she'd done up herself in a pinned up waterfall braid, rather than have Gerda or one of the other girls do it. She smoothed some of the stray hairs, both real and imagined, back into place.

She wished she could have had Anna help her with all of this. No one could put her at ease the way her sister could. But Elsa would have had to tell her about Hans, and she wasn't quite sure how she would have reacted to the news. If it upset Anna, that was one thing. But if Anna's reaction was similar to Gerda's, Elsa couldn't predict how she'd feel about that.

Once Elsa was ready to go, Gerda draped a charcoal cape around her shoulders. As the older woman gave her a final once-over, Elsa dropped her chin, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Gerda…"

"Yes, Highness."

"Is it true about Prince Hans? Is he really dying?"

Gerda was visibly thrown by her question. She didn't ask Elsa how she'd come by the rumour, which Elsa was grateful for. She didn't want to have to admit to eavesdropping. She felt bad enough about it as it was.

"I'm afraid he might be," Gerda finally replied, seeming to choose her words carefully. "Word is that no one's been allowed to see him for weeks now. He was confined to a room in a separate wing of the palace from the rest of the royal family, and no one's seen hide nor hair of him since. They say his was one of the first cases diagnosed." She glanced up at Elsa, and Elsa got the distinct impression Gerda was trying to gauge her reaction to everything she had just said. Elsa felt herself wilting beneath the woman's gaze. She quickly changed the subject.

"These shoes," Elsa began awkwardly, lifting her skirts and wobbling on one foot to show Gerda the gold and navy embroidered mule that adorned the other. "Do they look okay?"

"You look beautiful, Queen Elsa. Regal."

"In that case," Elsa said, straightening up and throwing her shoulders back in an attempt to live up to Gerda's compliment. "I'm ready to go."


	5. They Come With Smiles

So,

More lovely reviews! Thank you so much! Sorry this chapter is a day or so late. It's a slightly longer one, so hopefully that sort of makes up for the delay.

As always, I hope you're well. :)

**CHAPTER 4**  
THEY COME WITH SMILES

Despite all the time Elsa spent trying to memorize the names and birth order of all the princes, once she was standing in the palace with the lot of them (save Hans) lined up to welcome her, some with their wives and children standing alongside them, her mind went blank.

Nikolaj was the oldest, followed by Kasper, Anton, Bertram, Fritz, Mikkel, twins Josef and Brahm, then Klaus, Franz, Svend and Lars. All twelve of them stood tall and straight, elbow to elbow like a row a tin soldiers. Some of them were in their military uniforms and some wore sashes or crests bearing the colours of the territories they ruled together with their wives. A few of them had brought their older children along to meet Elsa.

The one thing all the brothers had in common were their good looks. Their parents were equally easy on the eyes. King Enoch had the same striking green eyes and broad shoulders as his youngest son, and a white beard trimmed close to his strong, chiselled jaw. Queen Alma, with hair almost as white as Elsa's, was taller than her, or maybe it was just the way she carried herself; perfect posture, shoulders back, hips forward, all of it looking positively effortless. Elsa wondered if she could ever look as imposing, as stately. She knew a lot of it would come with age and experience, but she knew Arendelle needed and deserved a queen like that now. Ice rinks and weekly tours of the castle weren't going to cut it.

This evening was going to be the only chance to chat with the family in its entirety. Queen Alma explained to her that several of her sons would be packing up and returning to their respective kingdoms in the morning.

"It's been an exhausting past few weeks, you understand." Queen Alma strolled beside Elsa as they made their way to the dining room. Her hands were folded in front of her, and she held her chin up high. Elsa tried her best to emulate the queen, but in her mind's eye she looked more like a goose than a swan, with or without the good posture.

"Last week the capital celebrated Josef and Brahms' birthday, and last month Bertram's wife gave birth to their fourth daughter," Queen Alma explained.

"Congratulations," Elsa said. "How many grandchildren do you have, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Not at all," the queen replied, beaming. "We've been blessed with thirty-seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren."

"Wow," Elsa gasped. "So many!"

"Yes, with many more to come, I hope. The twins are finally both engaged, and then we have four still unmarried sons left."

As everyone was being seated, Elsa did some quick math in her head and realized that Hans hadn't been included in any of the numbers she'd tucked away so far. Not one person had mentioned him. She guessed that might have been because they thought it would be impolite, given everything that had happened. She decided that if she wanted to find out Hans' fate, she would have to put everyone at ease by bringing him up herself.

Throughout dinner, Elsa waited patiently for the opportunity to ask about Hans. She was famished, but she ate very little. She had a nightmarish vision of someone finally mentioning Hans while her mouth was full of food - she would try to speak and the contents would fall into her lap. She didn't drink much either, for fear that she'd accidentally freeze the crystal. She had packed several pairs of gloves, but she couldn't very well wear gloves to dinner, so she had to hope that things would remain calm and uneventful until she could make it to the room she'd be staying in.

The conversation was pleasant enough, and Elsa managed to relax some. She talked a lot about Anna, the subject she was most comfortable with. She quickly mentioned Kristoff when the queen looked just a little too interested in Anna's unmarried status for Elsa's liking.

Like there was any chance in hell Anna would ever marry into this family whether there was another man in the picture or not.

Dessert was served - a rhubarb and berry pudding topped with Chantilly cream. It was absolutely heavenly. Elsa asked the king and queen if she could have the recipe to give to her own chefs. Of course they were more than happy to oblige.

Things were going swimmingly, Elsa thought. This was as good a time as any to…

"I…um…" Elsa cleared her throat. "I had a letter from Prince Hans the other day."

It would be an exaggeration to say that, at the mention of Hans' name, everyone comically dropped their silverware on the floor and gasped loudly, but the truth wasn't much better. The room grew very quiet. Elsa glanced down towards the other end of the long table. They were all either looking at each other or staring into their glasses. It didn't even sound as though anyone was breathing.

"I-I'm sorry," she said quietly to the queen, even though she wasn't quite sure what she was apologizing for. King Enoch brought a napkin to his mouth and coughed into it, eyes flitting in the direction of his wife.

"A letter?" the queen sputtered, losing her composure for one sliver of a second. "Are you sure?"

Elsa blinked, puzzled. This was nowhere near the reaction she was expecting.

"Well…yes."

Everyone else at the table began speaking in hushed tones, and Elsa gripped the napkin on her lap under the table with both hands, twisting it between her fists.

_Calm yourself. Control yourself._

Leaning closer to Elsa, the queen whispered, "Perhaps this is something we can address once everyone has retired for the evening?"

Elsa nodded. "Okay," she replied, her voice shaking just the tiniest bit.

Coming here alone may have been a bad idea after all.

**oooOOOOooo**

True to their word, King Enoch and Queen Alma sat with Elsa in one of the drawing rooms later that night and talked about Hans. Or, rather, they talked around Hans. They apologized again for his treachery and the attempt on her life. They told her that he had been punished. "Tried, convicted and sentenced by God and King," Queen Alma said. Elsa was afraid to ask what that meant, but she knew this was something they had to get out of the way tonight. By the tones of their voices and the resistance in their eyes, she knew she wasn't going to be able to bring up Hans again for the remainder of her visit.

"When you say 'God and King', do you mean to say that…I mean is…is the Prince unwell?"

_Is he dying? Just ask already._

King Enoch looked away. Queen Alma shifted in her chair.

"Yes," she finally answered. "The doctors all say he may not be with us for much longer."

Elsa's stomach knotted. She felt an ache in her throat, as though it were straining to suppress a sob. She couldn't think of any reason the news of Hans' impending demise should bother her so. He was a snake, and soon he'd never be able to hurt anyone ever ag—

And then it happened – the arms of the chair she was sitting in started to frost over. The freeze extended from her fingers like fine, electric blue threads, tracing the detailed carvings in the wood, winding their way around the legs.

"I'm sorry!" Elsa gasped, leaping to her feet and wringing her hands together. "I'm so, so sorry!"

King Enoch reached out and touched her wrist. "It's alright, dear. No harm done."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I usually wear gloves, but –"

Queen Alma smiled kindly. "We're familiar with your powers. There's no need to hide them here."

Elsa nodded and slowly lowered herself back into the chair. Of course they knew about her powers, she thought stupidly. Everyone did.

"That letter you received must have been a forgery. Hans can't even lift a hand to feed himself, let alone write a letter," King Enoch said, looking at Queen Alma uneasily.

Queen Alma folded her hands in her lap. "He's been ill for weeks now. The king is right – it must be a forgery. Do you have the letter with you?"

Elsa shook her head. "No," she lied. "But if you need it to aid in tracking down the culprit forging letters in your family's name, I can have someone bring it right over."

_Testing…testing…_

"No, no. It's alright. I believe the best thing to do is to destroy it once you return home and forget any of this ever happened. Obviously it's just some scoundrel trying to start up a bit of trouble. What do you think, my dear?" King Enoch asked. The queen, once again, was in agreement. "Yes, I'm sure it was just a one-time occurrence. If it does happen again, though, please don't hesitate to let us know, Queen Elsa."

Elsa's fingers pinched and fidgeted with the hems of her sleeves in an attempt to pull them over her hands. Something wasn't right. Why didn't they want to see the letter?

_God, I wish Anna was here._

"We should all turn in for the night. It's very late, and we must be up early for your tour of the capital tomorrow," Queen Alma said pleasantly, taking Elsa by the elbow and gently but firmly guiding her out of her chair and towards the door. Despite the friendly tone, there was a visible clenching of the queen's jaw that sent a chill down Elsa's spine. Not _that _kind of chill.

"Very well," Elsa said quietly. Both the queen and king looked relieved.

Once in the hallway, Elsa turned to face them. She crossed her hands neatly in front of her and lifted her chin, arching an eyebrow as she stared down the two imposing figures. She wasn't going to let another member of this family try to pull a fast one on her or the people she loved again. With a firm tone leaving no room for argument, Elsa spoke.

"Tomorrow, after the tour, I should like to visit with Prince Hans."


	6. Snakes and Ladders

So,

I'm posting this chapter before I've gone over it for typos, incomplete sentences, etc. I hope it's still readable (at least until I have a few moments to go over it more thoroughly), and I hope you enjoy it. :)

ssg.x.

**CHAPTER 5  
**SNAKES AND LADDERS

It probably goes without saying that tensions between Elsa, the king, and the queen ran high during the tour of the capital. Bolstered by her new found confidence and determination to solve the mystery of the missing thirteenth son of the Southern Isles, Elsa didn't let the royal couple's palpable anxiety ruffle her feathers. In fact, as the day unfolded she began to feed off of it. They were hiding something, and if there was a chance it could hurt Arendelle in some way, Elsa needed it dealt with as swiftly and as completely as possible.

The first thing that struck her was that the people seemed mighty cheerful despite an alleged influenza outbreak. Not that she was expecting villagers to show up weeping and wearing burlap sacks, but normally there would be at least one or two subjects who would bring up political or personal concerns when given the chance to speak candidly with a monarch. There were a few moments where she felt her usual social anxieties creep up on her. She worried that people would be afraid of her, probably after having heard all the stories about Arendelle's ice witch plunging the entire kingdom into an eternal winter, but no one said a word about her powers. Still, the people were friendly and very chatty, for which Elsa was silently grateful.

Some offered her humble, heartfelt gifts – fruits and vegetables from their gardens, eggs, bread, wine, jams and jellies. She wasn't sure what the proper protocol was for receiving gifts. It didn't seem right to offer to purchase them. She briefly entertained the idea of donating the gifts to the poor, but she decided in the end to accept the gifts and make a charitable donation in the people's name to thank them for their hospitality. She imagined her parents would have done the same thing.

On arriving back at the palace, Elsa tried to sustain her nerve from last night. She told King Enoch and Queen Alma how beautiful their kingdom was, how the people seemed to adore them, how kind everyone had been to her, and how well she was being taken care of at the palace.

Then she asked to see Prince Hans.

At first they outright refused to let her see him. He was in no condition to receive visitors, they said. He was too proud to be seen in such a weakened state. Then they told her that it would be reckless and irresponsible of her to put her life in peril by visiting with Hans. She didn't tell them she was impervious to illness because she was no longer sure they could be trusted, but she did tell them that they needn't concern themselves with her health. She let the comment about her being irresponsible slide.

_Pick your battles_, she thought. She willed away the uncomfortable prickling in the very tips of her fingers with several deep breaths.

"You say Prince Hans was tried and convicted, but I never attended a trial. I'm not sure what the law is here in your kingdom, but in Arendelle I possess the right to confront my attacker, just as your son has every right to challenge his accuser."

Elsa knew it was a reach, and she hated having to bring up the ugliness of Hans' crimes again, but she was starting to get desperate. Her knuckles began to ache. She could feel the freeze gathering in them.

_Calm yourself. Control yourself._

King Enoch was the first to relent. Queen Alma looked positively betrayed when he said that he would have guards escort Elsa to the wing where Hans was being quarantined.

Elsa thanked the King, hoping he could see that she truly meant it. He nodded sadly. Queen Alma's lips were pressed together so tightly it almost looked as though she had no mouth at all. Elsa tilted her chin up and tugged at the hems of her gloves. They all stood wordlessly awaiting the guards who would bring Elsa to Hans. She was relieved when they finally showed up, only because she wanted to be as far away from the king and queen as possible, but the fear that replaced it as she followed her silent escorts up dark stairwells and down even darker halls wasn't all that welcome, either. She didn't notice the frosty trail left behind by her every stride, like a carpet of lace, or the shoulders of the soldiers rising as they shrugged into their jackets. She couldn't feel the cold, and with their backs to her, she couldn't see their breath.

They finally reached a pair of doors at the end of one particularly long hallway. One of the guards opened them and stood aside for her to enter. After several more deep breaths, she tugged once more at her gloves and walked through. The doors slammed closed behind her, almost catching the back of her skirts, startling her half to death.

She looked up, one hand over her heart as though she could soothe it into beating at a normal pace again with the stroke of her palm. She had squeezed her eyes shut, but now she opened them slowly.

Not fifteen feet away from her was Hans, pale green eyes wide with astonishment. Elsa could do little more than stare back and bite her lip. He had been reclining on the window bench, but he abruptly stood up, quickly tucking something under one of the seat cushions. The sudden movement caused all her joints to cry out at once. She wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to control the freeze.

"_You_," Hans hissed, eyes narrowing.

It was amazing how his face and entire demeanour could change in an instant. It was like he'd just ripped off a mask. One minute he was easily one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen, and in the next he was…well…still very handsome, but dangerous - like some sort of beautiful, snapping beast whose face would change at the faintest whiff of fresh blood in the air. He wasn't drawing his sword to gut her like a fish just then, but he might as well have been. She imagined her beloved Anna, slowly freezing to death from the inside out, trapped in a room with this incarnation of Hans. Little by little, the temperature in the room they stood in now began to drop.

"What are you doing here?" he sneered, eyebrows drawing together, lip curling back to reveal his tightly clenched teeth.

"You're not sick," Elsa said, stating the obvious. Through the corner of her eye she could see the bed, which didn't look as though it had been slept in at all. He was wearing white linen trousers tucked into tall riding boots, and a thin, long-sleeved cotton shirt with an open neck that, had the temperature not dropped so significantly already, would have caused Elsa to blush. It was just his neck, but it was still far more of a man's neck than she'd seen before. He wasn't quite clean-shaven, but he hardly looked like a man too sick to lay a razor against his chin. His hair and the sideburns that ran the length of his face were, of course, still the colour of garnet.

Yes, he was handsome. Elsa could see why Anna had been so immediately drawn to him.

The snake.

Hans' face softened. He smirked.

"Oh. That," he said, relaxed now and clasping his hands behind his back, "I thought for sure my parents would have told _you_ the truth, if no one else."

"The truth about what?" Elsa asked, unable to control the trembling in her voice. She was really beginning to regret any and every decision she made that brought her to this spider's web. She wondered for a second if she would be able to kill Hans if he gave her no other choice. Her gloves were literally about to come off when he finally decided to answer her question.

"I'm not dying. I'm going to die, but I'm not dying."

"Not dying…" Elsa murmured.

"No," Hans replied.

"But you're going to die?" she asked, confused.

"Yes," he said. Then he smiled a strangely peaceful smile that was altogether unsettling. Turning on his heel, he strolled back into the shadows of his little nook by the window. He sat down and crossed one leg over the other, patiently waiting for Elsa to catch up.

Elsa's blue eyes grew to the size of saucers. Her jaw dropped just the tiniest bit. Hans gave her a little nod, still smiling that smile. This time she could see the cracks in it, could hear his heart breaking, or maybe it was the sound of her own. Up until this very moment, she wouldn't have believed he had one.

"You're being executed. Your parents are having you executed," Elsa said, feeling ill.

"Atta girl," he replied softly.


	7. Immersion

So,

Thank you very much for reading what there's been of Spun so far! I really appreciate it, and hope you're enjoying it! To those who have left me reviews or PMed me, I'm very grateful you took the time to do it. I couldn't be happier to hear (read?) from you, and I hope I can keep up the surprises. :)

ssg.x.

**CHAPTER 6  
**IMMERSION

Elsa was quiet for so long that eventually Hans returned to looking out the window. The only other place in the room to sit was the bench at the foot of the bed. The tour had left her exhausted, but she didn't trust Hans enough to sit down just yet.

"Does it please you?" he asked, not turning to look at her.

"Does what please me?" Elsa asked in return, tossing her head of platinum hair with as much false bravado as she could muster in the hopes of making up for the tremble that still lingered in her voice.

"That you'll soon be rid of me for good," he said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. Elsa smirked. He was clearly trying to employ the same tricks she'd been employing to get herself here. He was trying not to look like the frightened boy he was.

Elsa took a few steps towards the window. Hans' drew up his shoulders and crossed his arms. She could see his breath and the frost that began to gather in the corners of the window frame. He was too proud to otherwise acknowledge the cold. Elsa couldn't help the smug little smile that tugged at her lips.

_For Anna,_ she thought.

"I'm rid of you whether you live or die," Elsa said at last. "If you're asking me if I'll be happy when you're dead, the answer is no. I'm not like you. I don't take pleasure in the misfortune of others. I don't prey on the weak or take advantage of -"

Hans chuckled.

"Oh, come now. I wouldn't have taken _that_ much pleasure in your deaths. They would have merely been a means to an end." he said, standing and crossing the room towards the bed, causing Elsa to take several footfalls back to keep out of his way. He reached for a pair of braces that were lying on the bed and began buttoning them to the waist of his trousers. He tucked in his shirt and slipped one arm, then the other through the braces, bringing them over his shoulders.

Elsa stared down at her shoes. She moved the toe of one around on the floor in a little circle, leaving an imprint in the bit of snow that had gathered beneath her skirt where she was standing. He knows how attractive he is, she thought, briefly looking up again to see if he was done dressing himself. He was reaching into the wooden wardrobe by the bed and drawing out an olive waistcoat.

"Don't you find it's a little chilly tonight?" he asked innocently, smiling and shrugging his shoulders. Elsa rolled her eyes. "As I was saying, I wanted the crown. I wasn't going to kill you because I take any pleasure in the kill. Are we speaking frankly here?"

She arched her eyebrow. "I don't know. Are you capable of that?"

Hans grinned and wagged a finger at her. "Funny," he said. He buttoned up the waistcoat and smoothed it out. "I take pleasure in being good at what I do. I like being proven right about things. I'm a good judge of character, you know."

Elsa crossed her arms. "Are you, now?" she said, deciding to humour the slimy little creep for a bit.

Hans grabbed a pair of gloves from the table by his bed and slipped them on.

"Oh, I am. Look at the way I played you and your sister, for instance. That requires real, organic talent. It isn't a learned skill. If it was, and we had more time together, I'd offer to teach you. A queen can't be expected to protect her kingdom if she's too weak and foolish to even protect herself, after all."

Elsa's eyes narrowed and her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Don't talk about my kingdom. And _don't_," she growled, "talk about my sister."

An ethereal electricity hovered in the air around them then, tangible enough that even Hans' eyes widened with a sort of curious awe. Snow began to fall from somewhere above them, and there was a crackling coming from the windows as a shimmery blue frost rapidly reached across the window panes.

"I should leave," Elsa said, unclenching her fists and making her way briskly towards the doors. "Freezing to death is a far more painful way to go than…" her voice trailed off.

"Poisoning," Hans said flatly, finishing her sentence.

"The letter you sent me," she asked, still not looking at him. "Were you trying to make me angry so I'd come see you? You wanted me to…"

Hans was silent. Elsa shook her head, her voice catching in her throat. "I wouldn't. I would never…God, I can't even say the words."

"What?" Hans exclaimed. "You think I was trying to goad you into killing me? Of course not. That would be suicide, and I'm no coward," he snapped. "Actually," he said, raising an eyebrow at her and grinning, "my plan was to seduce you and get you to break me out of here."

Elsa turned around to face him but he very sharply turned his back to her. She stared at him sadly. His shoulders were slumped. His head drooped as though he'd been holding it up for far too long.

"No," she said quietly, understanding him then more than she wanted to. "It wasn't."

"If you don't do it, they'll win," he said softly by way of explanation after an extended silence. "If I'm going to die, I'm going to do it on my own terms. If anyone has just cause to end my life, it's you, Queen Elsa. _I choose_ _you_."

Against her better judgement, Elsa approached Hans slowly.

"I don't understand. Why are your parents doing this?" she asked. "And why would they tell everyone you're dying of influenza? If the law states –"

"It has nothing to do with the law. It's about keeping up appearances," Hans muttered. "Do you think anyone else knows what really happened in Arendelle besides the men who brought me home and a few dignitaries? Silences were bought and paid for. I was brought here and shut up in this room and the whole incident was covered up."

Elsa had no reason to believe anything that came out of this man's mouth, but what he said would certainly explain King Enoch and Queen Alma's odd behaviour, and their refusal to let her see Hans. Until she made them, anyways. If they were expecting her to keep their secret once she left this room, however, they had another thing com-

_Oh, no…_

Elsa gasped and ran for the doors. She grabbed the handles and tried to turn them. Neither would budge. She banged on the doors, calling out to the guards who were supposed to be waiting for her on the other side, but no one answered.

"They've locked you in here with me, haven't they?" Hans asked, chuckling sourly. "You know too much, I guess. I've got dibs on the bed."

Elsa took her gloves off and tossed them over her shoulder. "Here, hold these. I hope you have a warm coat in that wardrobe of yours," she said, raising her arms up and taking aim at the door. The freeze hummed throughout her entire body and pooled in the palms of her hands.

She threw her arms out in front of her and the entire room lit up with an explosion of snow and ice that burst forth from Elsa's hands like a spectacular shower of stars. Instead of penetrating the doors, however, the blast seemed to bounce off of them, turning her attack back on her. Hans dropped to the floor and grabbed Elsa's ankle, pulling it out from under her so she ended up beside him, out of harm's way.

"What just happened?" she groaned, raising herself up on her elbow. Every bone in her body howled.

"Whatever just happened, it happened to almost everything in the room except that door," Hans replied. He looked back over his shoulder. "And that window."

Elsa stood on wobbly legs and looked around. The wardrobe and bedside table had both tipped completely over. The bench that had been at the foot of the bed was now on the opposite side of the room. From its placement in the room and the angle it was lying at, Elsa deduced that it had somehow managed to bounce off the window, which was almost as troubling as the doors having remained completely intact, even after such a battering. She hadn't considered the window when she targeted the doors, which was incredibly reckless in hindsight. The window might have shattered and sliced both she and Hans to ribbons.

Hans got back on his feet and put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the damage. The whole inside of the room was coated floor to ceiling with rime. Icicles hung from the brass canopy bedframe and the wooden rafters high above them.

"It's pretty, if anything," he said, brushing the snow off his shoulders.

Elsa glared daggers at him.

"Remember what I said earlier about not having it in me to kill you?" she asked.

"Yes?" Hans replied, offering her back her gloves.

She grabbed him by the collar of his waistcoat with both fists, dragging him down so she could look him in the eye. "If I find out this was all one big ruse set up by you and your maniacal parents to capture me and hold me for ransom, I may just have to dig deep down until I find _'it'._"


	8. The Risks of Winter

So,

I'm hoping this chapter makes sense. I'm counting on you to let me know if it doesn't! I wrote it overnight, and typos tend to happen when I do that. As always, I hope you enjoy the update. Thank you so much for reading. :)

ssg.x.

**CHAPTER 7  
**THE RISKS OF WINTER

Elsa lay down on the frigid floor, pressing her face against a cold she couldn't feel to peer under the doors. She was trying to see a light, a boot, the hem of a dress, anything that would be a sign that there was someone on the other side of the chamber doors she still couldn't open. Elsa fumbled to stand, feeling utterly hopeless.

"Why is this happening?" she shouted, stomping her foot in frustration. The entire room lit up a cerulean blue, and the sheer force sent the snow on the floor in every direction. Panic was turning her into a shimmering vortex of sleet and hail. She tore her cape off and threw it off to her side, cursing under her breath. She rolled her shoulders back before launching her arms forward again, this time towards the wall and the stone fireplace that protruded from it. She'd already blasted the window several times by then, and knew trying to destroy it was a futile effort. Something was protecting it, something powerful.

_Far more powerful than me._

Still, it didn't stop her from throwing everything she had at it and just about anything else in the room. She needed to take her anger out on something because she was so very close to taking her anger out on _someone_ instead.

Hans was hiding in the wardrobe. Well, not exactly hiding. Elsa had suggested he take cover while she made several more attempts at getting them out of that room. It was a good thing he was in there, because there was no guarantee she wouldn't have "accidentally" froze his shrivelled little heart into an ice cube and used it in a drink.

Elsa finally flopped down on the floor beside the wardrobe, exhausted.

"No luck, huh?" came Hans' voice from inside it.

"No," she said stonily.

"Is it safe to come out now?" he asked. In response, Elsa waved her hand tiredly, sealing the wardrobe doors shut by icing the locks.

"I still have a few questions for you."

Hans huffed, irritated, but the truth was that he really _was_ better off in the wardrobe. He could wrap himself in the clothes in there to keep warm.

"How did you get the letter to me if you were shut up in this room?"

Truth be told, that was the only question Elsa could come up with, because it was the only thing that didn't gel with Hans' story. If he wasn't working with his parents, if they _had_ actually locked him up in here on his return from Arendelle, then how was he able to get that letter to her without his family intercepting it?

"I bribed a guard who brought me my food one afternoon. He made sure the letter went through the proper channels."

"In exchange for what?"

"Just a few trinkets I had."

"Trinkets? What kind of trinkets?" Elsa asked, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Who gets locked up with trinkets?"

Hans was quiet for what felt like an eternity. She wondered if he was trying to come up with a decent lie. Maybe it was just taking him longer than usual because of the cold. When he answered, his response wasn't what she was expecting.

"I bribed him, okay? End of story. Next question," he said sharply.

_Oh…_

She had touched a nerve. Her heart started beating a little faster and her stomach ached. She couldn't even question a man she believed could still be a viable threat to her kingdom, for God's sake. She could build an entire palace out of ice, but what she really needed was a spine.

Okay, maybe Hans was actually telling the truth. He was a lying weasel back in Arendelle, but so far he seemed to be coming clean to her on a variety of subjects. How many men would admit to being a power-hungry, sociopathic, blood-thirsty monster? Elsa didn't have much experience with men, but she guessed that was pretty rare. The admitting part, anyway.

Elsa gnawed on one of her fingernails, at a loss for what to do next. But then Hans spoke again.

"My grandfather's gold spyglass, and his wedding band," came his muffled voice. "I used to play in this room alone as a child. There's a box hiding under a loose floorboard just to the left of the window seat."

_I used to play in this room alone as a child._

Elsa frowned, remembering her own lonely childhood. If this was another lie meant to tug at her heartstrings and get her to drop the line of questioning, Hans would be sorry. Really sorry. But if it was true…

She stood and walked to the window seat. She crouched down by it and began feeling around for the loose floorboard. Once she found it, she brushed some snow aside and used her fingernails to lift the wooden slat. She carefully set it aside, and tentatively reached into the dark space in the floor.

_Right there._

She pulled out a rosewood box with a flock of eleven pearl swans swooping across its lid. She cradled the box in her lap and carefully lifted the little gold latch to open it. Inside was a matchbox, a handful of pebbles, two white feathers, a spool of string, and a woman's wedding band. There was still plenty of room left for a spyglass and a man's wedding band to match the woman's.

"Why?" she asked, lifting one of the feathers to her face and running it thoughtfully along the line of her jaw.

"Why what?" he muttered.

Elsa shrugged her shoulders. "Why did you tell me?"

"Because you wanted to know, Queen Elsa," Hans replied a little sarcastically. "Remember, about a minute ago?"

"I mean what made you change your mind?"

A pause.

"I don't know."

Elsa believed him.

She returned the feather to the box, and the box to the space in the floor. She fit the floorboard back into its groove then walked over to the wardrobe. She closed her eyes and waved her hand to rid it of the ice keeping it from opening.

She could hear Hans pushing on the doors, but they didn't move. The ice she thought she had just removed was still very much there.

"Hey," he called nervously. "Are you still there?"

Elsa stood and placed her hand directly on the icy locks, closing her eyes again and really focusing.

_Nothing._

"It isn't working," she said, beginning to panic again. More frost began to climb up the walls. "Why isn't it working?"

"Why isn't _what_ working?" Hans asked apprehensively, feeding off the dread in her voice.

"I can't get rid of the ice! Why can't I get rid of the ice?" Of course there was no one around who could give her an answer, but she asked out loud nonetheless. If she couldn't get rid of that little bit of ice, she certainly wouldn't be able to thaw the entire room. The temperature would just keep dropping and dropping, until -

"Okay, calm down," Hans said coolly. "We'll figure this out. I'm sure I can get out of here myself. I just need to employ a little elbow grease. Stand back."

Elsa stood aside and waited. She heard Hans throw himself against the doors of the wardrobe, followed by a muffled curse and an "ow".

_This might take a while, _she thought, returning to the window seat. There wasn't as much grease on Hans' elbow as he thought, she guessed. She sat down, adjusting her skirts around her legs as she curled them up under herself. She could see what looked to be an envelope sticking out from beneath the seat cushion – the whatever-it-was that Hans had quickly hidden when she first showed up. Hans was still trying to force the doors open with little success. She pulled the envelope out from its hiding place and opened it. Inside was a letter.

Her letter. The letter she'd written to Hans.

She read it over again, refreshing her memory. It had been a few weeks since she'd sent it. It was impersonal but polite, written merely as a courtesy to the family. There was hardly anything about the letter that made it worth keeping as far as she could tell, let alone giving away family heirlooms for the opportunity to reply to it.

Calmer now, she went to have another go at getting Hans out of the wardrobe after returning the letter to its hiding spot under the seat cushion. Absorbed in thoughts of whether or not she should ask Hans why he had kept it, she didn't hear the wardrobe's doors finally bending and giving in to the dogged prince's will.

The wardrobe tipped off to one side and struck the wall as the doors burst open. Hans leapt out, finally free, but the icy floor prevented him from sticking the landing. The sole of one boot slipped out from under him, and he crashed into Elsa hard enough to knock the wind out of both of them. The two of them landed in an inelegant heap a few feet away from what was once a perfectly functional wardrobe.

Elsa opened her eyes. She was lying on her back, covered in various items of men's clothing, her head resting in the nook of Hans' arm and shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No thanks to you," she said, only because she felt she had to say something mean just then to put a little distance between them. Her first instinct was to ask him if he was hurt, and that didn't sit well with her.

She pulled a navy frockcoat off her face and threw it to her side. Before she knew what was happening, the muscles in the arm she was laying on tensed. Hans' other arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her lithesome body on top of his own, then rolled them both over so that he was covering her. She was about to scream and tell him how repulsive he was when an icicle that had broken off from the rafters above hit the floor, shattering on impact precisely where her head would have been had Hans not moved as swiftly as he had.

It was the second time he'd saved her from herself today.

_He has freckles_, she remarked dazedly, looking up at him. She closed her eyes for a moment to catch her breath, involuntarily inhaling his scent – a combination of spearmint and wild tarragon. It suited him, she thought, breathing deeply. There was also something familiar about it, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Above her, Hans' chest moved up and down, up and down, and his naked Adam's apple leapt as he laboured to catch his own breath. For just a second, she felt something that might have been his lips against the top of her head, but she could have imagined that. His scent was leaving her dizzy. She opened her eyes as he raised himself on his forearms, his green eyes growing wide with embarrassment as a blush rose beneath the light spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he said, clumsily sitting back and offering her his hand to help her up. She hesitatingly took it and let him pull her back to her feet. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Y-yes," she stammered this time, her heart beating wildly.

But it was a lie.

She was not alright. Nothing would ever be alright again.

As long as Elsa was locked up in this room, Anna was in danger. Her kingdom was in danger.

And, much to her abject horror, Elsa might have just fallen a little in love with the man who may be the cause of it all.


	9. A Curious Beauty

So,

One day it's Spring, and the next we're right back to Winter. Is the weather wonky these days where you are, too?

Thank you, as always, for reading, reviewing, following, and all those sweet things. I appreciate it all.

ssg.x.

**CHAPTER 8**  
A CURIOUS BEAUTY

Prince Hans Westergård of the Southern Isles,

It is with profound sincerity that I, Queen Elsa Riborg Voigt of Arendelle, do hereby grant my forgiveness for crimes committed against myself and the citizens of my kingdom. I assure you that we shall seek no further retribution beyond the punishment assigned to you in accordance with the laws of your dominion. Instead, my most genuine hope is that during this time, your majesty will find strength in solitude, rather than despair in isolation.

Yours sincerely,

Queen Elsa of Arendelle

**oooOOOOooo**

Elsa watched Hans pacing the room, shoulders shrugged against the cold, and arms crossed over a navy double-breasted half coat over a white, high-collared shirt. The rows of gold buttons running the length of the coat's torso all bore the Westergård family crest. He had tugged a second pair of gloves over the pair he was already wearing, and wrapped his elegant throat in a stiff, silk necktie. He was the perfect balance between grace and strength.

The devil.

His cheeks were ruddy, and his teeth were chattering. His pacing had slowed down considerably since he started, and his eyelids drooped over his soft, green eyes. The cold was clearly taking its toll on him. Still, when he caught her watching him before she could prevent it, a small, self-satisfied smile pulled at a corner of his mouth.

"Your Majesty?" Hans uncrossed his arms and gave Elsa a little bow. The drop in temperature had no effect on Elsa, so she couldn't blame the blush that coloured her face on the cold. Under her breath, she cursed herself for letting her guard down.

"Yes?" she asked hoarsely, folding and unfolding her gloves in her lap.

"You were looking at me."

Elsa shifted uncomfortably on the window seat. "Don't flatter yourself. It's only because there really isn't much else to look at in here right now."

"I don't mind you looking at me," he said, tilting his chin up haughtily. "I'm attractive - I know that. It's partly how I was able to net your sister so easily."

"Don't talk about my sister," she warned him, more for his sake than her own. "You're such an arrogant a –"

"You know," Hans interrupted, "you said that I'm incapable of telling nothing but lies, but every single time I've managed to prove to you I've been telling the truth, I've gotten no apologies from you. Not even for, say, locking me up in that wardrobe. That hardly seems fair."

"So, the truth _here_ is that you think you're attractive?" Elsa asked wryly. Hans began pacing again, hands clasped behind his back, cocksure like a hawk circling its disadvantaged prey. He smiled.

"I don't think I'm attractive, Your Highness. I _know_ I'm attractive. I also know I'm disarmingly charming. I can't accomplish much with it here, though. I'm the thirteenth son; handsome and charming are a dime a dozen in this family." Hans shrugged his shoulders with feigned indifference - there was an edge to his voice, though, that even he couldn't hide whenever he mentioned his family. "Those are all truths. I've committed many crimes. I'm a cad and I was willing to leave behind a death count to get where I wanted to be, but you're the bigger liar of the two of us."

Elsa was so taken aback by that last statement that she struggled to find words to express how outraged she was.

"You're insane. How's that for the truth?" she sputtered at last.

Hans chuckled. "You lie to yourself all the time, don't you? You're more like me than you care to admit."

"I'm _nothing_ like you," Elsa spat. Hans strode over to the window seat and sat down beside her. She glared at him before standing up and crossing the room, turning her back to him.

"We're two sides of the same coin as the expression goes. The same something dwells in both of us. We've both almost killed –"

"I was defending myself," Elsa said shakily. "I didn't want to kill anyone."

"Now that's not entirely true, is it? You had immobilized those two men, but it wasn't enough for you. You wanted to destroy them. I stopped you."

_Don't be the monster they fear you are._

"Yes, I wanted to be the big hero who swept in and saved Arendelle just when all hope was lost, but I had asked you to end the winter, remember? You said you couldn't. The fjord was frozen through. Your people were suffering. Does it really matter what my motivations were for wanting to put an end to their suffering so long as someone, oh I don't know, put an end to their suffering?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Elsa asked, wrapping her arms around herself. Her joints ached from the strain of keeping the freeze under control. "Asking me to end the winter was all part of your act. I was naïve. I let you manipulate me. I needed so desperately for someone to tell me I wasn't a monster, and there you were – Prince Charming. Then you try to crush me with a chandelier followed by an attempt to decapitate me."

She glanced back over her shoulder at Hans, who looked mildly surprised she'd managed to figure out that he'd purposely aimed the crossbow at the chandelier in her palace of ice as Elsa stood unsuspectingly under it. She shivered when Hans walked across the room so he could stand behind her, snow and ice crunching beneath his boots.

"We're both young, strong, and beautiful, Queen Elsa - capable of boundless heroism and staggering destruction," he said.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Elsa replied sardonically. Hans wasn't the least bit put off.

"I can't control the weather, but I can control people. I think you'd agree that can be just as dangerous, if not more so," he drawled huskily.

Elsa wanted so badly to move away from Hans, but the weight of his eyes on her back kept her close enough for his scent to take hold of her again. Soon she could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of her neck. For his own safety, she hoped he knew better than to try to touch her. She didn't like to be touched.

"Whatever it is you're trying to do right now, it isn't going to work," she said, standing a little straighter and pulling her shoulders back, trying to appear as confident as Hans seemed to be. "I'm not my sister. You were able to take advantage of her because she was lonely and desperately wanted someone to love who was capable of loving her back. I left her vulnerable to you, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But I didn't grow up lonely – I grew up in complete and utter isolation, in a room much like this one. Some might wonder if I ever felt like those four walls were closing in. It never felt like that to me." Elsa stared down at her clasped hands, a faraway look in her blue eyes. "The walls would draw farther and farther away from me with each day that passed, leaving nothing but more frozen wasteland in their place. No trees, or flowers, or people to watch. Just me. It was unbearable until it wasn't."

Elsa sighed, smiling sadly. "I don't suppose you could understand what I mean," she said, finally turning to face Hans. He was looking at her, but his expression was unreadable. For once he seemed to have nothing to say.

"So, you see, I'm very good at being 'just me'. Trying to seduce me for any nefarious purposes you may have in mind would be a waste of your time. You'd be better off conserving your energy so you don't freeze to death."

Hans was quiet for the longest time. She couldn't see his breath, and, despite herself, she began to worry about him. Then, without warning, Hans closed the distance between them, winding his gloved hands in her soft, white hair and pressing his mouth desperately to hers. Elsa felt the room begin to spin, and the icy floor beneath them exploded with light. It travelled up the walls and across the ceiling, setting the icicles that hung from the rafters aglow one after the other like lanterns. Elsa gasped against his mouth, her heart pounding so violently it frightened her. He parted the seam of her lips with his tongue and the icicles began to burst, becoming harmless snowflakes that glittered like tiny, winking diamonds by the time they met their heads and shoulders.

Hans fumbled to tear off his gloves, throwing them to his side before reaching for her again. She should have used that brief moment of freedom to push him away, but she didn't. She couldn't. One naked hand lightly traced the line of her neck, while the other made quick work of pulling out the pin and loosening the braid that held her up-do together. Her hair fell softly around her face and down her back like dove feathers. She pressed her hand flush against his chest, ready to free herself from him, but felt his heart beating against the palm of her hand as fiercely as if she were cradling it in her fingers. She began to tremble. He couldn't fake that, could he?

"Elsa," he breathed. The sound of her name on his lips, his perfect lips, was her undoing. She moaned and, despite every fiber of her being begging her to take heed, she kissed him back. The freeze hummed through her veins, but all she could feel were his hands, his tongue, his lips…

Hans suddenly pulled away, crying out in pain. He gritted his teeth and doubled over, tears springing to his eyes. Elsa looked down at her hand, the one that had been pressed against his heart.

"Elsa…?" he rasped, green eyes entreating her for answers she couldn't give him. Elsa wordlessly shook her head, eyes wide with panic and confusion. She drew her hands to her chest. His legs buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground.

"Hans…" she whispered. His eyes became glassy and unfocused; his lips began to turn blue.

_Please, no…_

Horrified, Elsa realized what she had done. She had just inadvertently frozen his heart.


	10. A Beast, An Angel, and A Madman

So,

Where the hell has Anna gone? Not to worry - she's around.

Thanks for all the reviews, PMs and favourites. I'm sorry it took so long for an update, but things managed to get busy, and busy gets the better of me every single time. Stupid busy.

I hope you're well! This chapter is a little longer than the others. I hope that makes up for the wait. Actually, wait - I hope the writing makes up for the wait! I may have to do some touch-ups here and there later today, but I hope you enjoy the chapter despite any typos or other messiness I might have overlooked before posting it. :)

Thank you for reading!

ssg.x.

**CHAPTER 9**  
A BEAST, AN ANGEL, AND A MADMAN

"Anna, Kai and Gerda, Olaf…Come on, come on, come on…" Elsa muttered under her breath, hands hovering over Hans' chest. She was afraid to touch him again, even with her gloves back on.

"Chocolate, apple cider, music, dried cherries, dancing…" she continued, making a list of the things she loved in the hopes that she could thaw Hans' heart, or at least bring the temperature down in the room to keep him a little more comfortable…if that was possible. Unlike Anna, Hans had at least been granted the small mercy of being unconscious as he slowly froze to death.

_He's not going to die. You're not going to let him._

"I might not have a choice." Elsa muttered. She took a deep breath before lifting the top half of Hans' body off the floor. She crouched behind him, slipping her arms under his and around his ribs so she could haul him up against her chest. She was hoping that with enough will and determination, she'd be able to lift Hans off the frosty floor and get him on the bed so she could wrap him up in the blankets.

_My kingdom for a big, able-bodied, snow monster._

While Elsa was sure she could call one into being easily enough, until she knew how to send it back from whence it came, bringing even more snow and ice into the room wasn't a good idea. She tightened her arms around Hans, knees wobbling as she struggled to get back on her feet. Once her legs were steady, she began dragging him along the floor towards the bed.

She tried to tell herself that if he _did_ die, if she couldn't stop it from happening, he would only be getting what he deserved. His parents thought so, Kai and Gerda thought so, and even Hans himself seemed to think so. People were executed for treason all the time, right?

Elsa knew her rationalizations were completely nonsensical. If Hans died, it would be because she killed him – not for treason, but because he had kissed her.

And because she had liked it. Very much.

She'd never been kissed before, so she really had nothing to compare it to. All the folktales and myths she'd read never told her anything about kissing beyond it being a catalyst for something wonderful or something terrible happening. The prince kissed the princess and woke her from an eternal slumber, or the prince kissed the Fairy of Eden and all of Paradise fell into a thousand years of darkness. Elsa decided a long time ago that she just wasn't ready for princes, kisses, or whatever the combination of the two might bring, catastrophic or otherwise.

Never could Elsa have ever imagined that her first kiss would be someone's last. But then she also never thought her first kiss would be with her sister's sword-wielding, regicidal ex-fiancé.

What was she thinking?

She stood on the mattress, and, on a mental count of three, used all her strength to drag Hans onto the bed. The stiff fabric of the jacket he was wearing didn't make the task any easier. Once she was sure he wasn't going to slip over the edge, she let his body rest against hers as she tried to catch her breath. Her arms relaxed around him. She leaned her forehead against his back and sighed, wondering what the time was. Was it even the same day? She was hungry and exhausted, even though she knew there was no chance she'd be able to sleep or eat if given the opportunity to do either.

Elsa carefully eased the top half of Hans' body back on the bed as she slipped out from under him. She adjusted the pillow under his head and removed one of her gloves to check his pulse. It was slow, but steady. She was relieved until she noticed the streak of white extending from his forehead off to the right side of the part in his auburn hair. Under normal circumstances, she would have remarked on how distinguished it made him look.

Actually, that's not true. Under normal circumstances, Elsa wouldn't be here. She'd be at home in her own bed not giving Hans a second thought. Instead, she traced the strong line of his jaw with the very tip of one long, curious finger. Since she was wholly sure she couldn't cause him more harm than she already had, she climbed onto the bed and settled back on her haunches, leaning over to get a closer look at him.

"Hans?" she called to him quietly. He gave no response. In a normal speaking voice she called his name again, but again there was no answer. Telling herself she was only doing so to see if his eyes were moving beneath his eyelids, she leaned in even closer. Really she was marvelling over how long and dense his eyelashes were, and how perfect his turned up nose was. His skin was pale and his lips were thin, though they didn't feel thin pressed against hers, she remembered.

"Maybe," she began, touching the shock of white in his hair, "I could have…"

…_could have loved you once._

"Maybe," she whispered bleakly. "If things had been different."

If she had seen the sword coming, had turned her head in time to see the look on his face seconds before he almost took her life without a moment's hesitation, maybe she wouldn't be waiting so expectantly for him to speak again. But she hadn't, and she didn't. Looking at him now, she couldn't imagine he could ever have been so cruel. Like he had said, though - it was his looks and his charisma that had first captivated Anna, and he had callously taken full advantage of that. Elsa had to remind herself that Hans was a cold, calculating master of deception.

_Very cold,_ Elsa thought wryly before she could help it. _And a good kisser. I think._

She flopped back on the bed beside Hans, putting as much distance between their bodies as the mattress would allow. Her eyes fluttered shut for few minutes, finding the rhythm of Hans' slow, rasping breaths strangely comforting. Her mind wandered to places it shouldn't have. She thought about the box hiding under the floorboards. She thought about the eleven pearl swans on the lid, and the long, white feathers he'd saved. She thought about the pebbles and imagined a young Hans standing on a beach, collecting those same pebbles and watching the swans out on the water through his grandfather's spyglass.

Even after all the time she'd spent with King Enoch and Queen Alma, and despite having met their other twelve sons, Elsa, try as she might, couldn't imagine Hans out on that beach with a single one of them. In her mind's eye, he was alone, watching the waves lapping the shore and the toes of his boots with a faraway look in his sad, green eyes. It was just him.

_Just him._

"I thought you didn't dance."

Elsa started at the sound of Hans' voice, eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and relief. There was a chance she wouldn't be labelled a murderer after all. He didn't open his eyes, but it was just enough for Elsa that he was able to speak, even if what he'd said hadn't made any sense and sounded like it was crawling to her across broken glass.

"You're awake," she said, stating the obvious. Hans gave a little nod of his head.

"I thought you didn't dance," he said again.

Elsa scrunched up her nose, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"Anna told me…you didn't...dance," he croaked. Elsa blinked. Had he been able to hear her when she was trying to revive him earlier?

"She's right. I don't dance," Elsa replied, still confused but curious. She pulled her glove back on. "I like to watch people dancing, though. I just…" she hesitated, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. "I don't like being touched."

Hans smirked, "Yeah…I kind of got that."

Feeling ashamed, Elsa blushed. "I'm sorry. It…I didn't hurt you on purpose."

"And here I thought you were warming up to me," he said, his chuckle trailing off into a series of coughs. Elsa looked away.

"This isn't an appropriate time to make jokes," she said.

"Not even bad ones?" he replied. When Elsa glanced down at him, she saw that he had one eye open and a grin across his face. She turned her back to him so he couldn't see her smile.

She really needed Anna here so she could smack Elsa upside her big, stupid, smitten head.

_The same head Hans tried to take right off your shoulders with his sword_, she reminded herself.

"How do you feel?" she asked soberly.

"Cold," he answered. "My chest aches and it's a little hard to breathe, like there's a fist squeezing my heart."

_My fist,_ Elsa thought, wincing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I've gotten so much better at controlling my powers. But you startled me, and…I told you that trying to pull the same tricks on me that you pulled on Anna would be a waste of your time. The only other reason for…"

…_kissing me. _

She couldn't even say the words out loud.

"…for doing what you did…" she fumbled shyly, "The only other reason would be that you were hoping it would kill you. You were hoping_ I _would kill you. I'm not an angel of death. Not that I thought we've become the best of friends or anything, but I thought you understood my position on -"

She felt a lump grow in her throat, effectively stopping her from finishing that sentence. Tears sprang to her eyes and she quickly brushed them away with her gloved hands before he could see them.

Hans tried to raise himself up on his elbows. His breathing was laboured, and he was shivering violently. Elsa knew she should have stopped him from trying to move, but she was afraid to touch him again, even with the gloves on. He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, clearly in agony, but the emotional tumult within Elsa had grown too powerful, and it was a power she could no longer trust so long as she was alone with Hans.

He finally managed to sit up straighter than either of them thought he could, or at least that's what Elsa guessed by the look on Hans' face when they found themselves nose to nose.

After the initial shock, Hans' features softened with what could only be described as uninhibited wonder.

"Maybe I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you," he said softly.

Taken aback, Elsa's heart began pounding against her ribs and the bodice of her dress suddenly felt far too tight to accommodate all the activity. His lips parted and his eyes began to close. Hers did the same. The blankets fell away from his chest as he leaned his body forward, and Elsa, though every single one of her instincts screamed at her to pull away and make another go at getting out of that room, swayed precariously closer to his lips. The kiss she hadn't anticipated she'd want so much never came, though. Instead, his icy breath ghosted along her jawline, traced the helix of her ear, a foreshadowing of how the cold sting of his mouth directly on her skin might feel. The freeze hummed deliciously throughout her entire body, but with no way to release, or even relieve itself, it just kept churning and churning inside of her, becoming more commanding by the second. If she didn't do something, she was afraid she might crack like an egg. Thankfully, the tickle of Hans' sideburn against her cheek returned to her a sliver of her mind, just enough to give her pause.

"Don't," she whispered.

"Don't what?" Hans breathed. His hand crept along the bed towards hers. She was perfectly still as he toyed with the fingers of her glove. With one firm tug, he managed to yank it right off her hand. Elsa crossed her arms and, with great effort, stood from the bed, but not before snatching her glove back from him.

"That's enough," she said, her voice trembling. "I've already told you I don't like being touched. And you're supposed to be on your deathbed."

Hans laughed mirthlessly and stared at his hands in his lap. "That's right. I almost forgot you tried to kill me."

Stricken, Elsa's blue eyes grew wide as night. "You know that's not true!"

"Fine," he muttered, waving a hand at her dismissively. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put it that way."

Elsa looked back over her shoulder at him, disgusted with herself for missing the feel of his breath on her neck. "God, I'm so stupid. I need to get out of here."

"What are you talking about?" Hans asked, bemused.

Elsa sighed. "Just when I think you're being even a little genuine with me, the mask slips."

Hans rolled his eyes. "So what's supposed to have given me away this time? Another lie?" he asked sarcastically. "And what was I lying about? That I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you, or that another part of me still believes that you want me dead?"

Elsa arched an eyebrow at him. "And what if a part of me _did_ want you dead? You yourself told me you couldn't blame me. You left my sister to die a slow, painful death, you repulsive parasite! But that wasn't even your biggest crime. You made her fall in love with you first, and then you made a cruel joke of it. You shut her up in a room not unlike this one, you put out the fire to hasten her demise, and then you came after me."

Looking infuriatingly unmoved, Hans wrapped his arms around himself and glared at her. Elsa's hands balled into fists. Cracks began to appear in the sheets of black ice on the walls and window, glowing hellish red in spite of the near-arctic temperature of the room.

"What do you want me to tell you? That I'm sorry?" he snapped, his face darkening.

"Like a sorry from you would mean anything," Elsa snorted. "I've picked handfuls of berries worth more than an apology from a slimy bastard like you."

"A slimy bastard like me, huh? Why did you kiss me back, then?"

"I'm tired, and hungry, and out of my mind with worry!" she yelled, composure finally worn down to nothing.

Hans angrily threw the sheets back and climbed out of bed. He stood on unsteady legs, leaning heavily on one of the bedposts for a moment before attempting to stand on his own. Elsa detested that she was concerned he might hurt himself.

"Who's lying now?" he spat. His shoulders stiffened and his face contorted in anguish. Another streak of white unfurled in his auburn hair, not far from the first one.

"How dare you question me!" she shouted. "I only came here in the first place to investigate what I'd been led to believe was an influenza epidemic. I was doing what I thought was best for Arend—"

"Oh, _blah-blah-blah!_" Hans shouted back. Elsa couldn't believe her ears. No one had ever dared speak to her that way before. She barely knew how to react.

"_Excuse me?!"_ she blurted. Her wild blue eyes locked with his absinthe green ones in combat. A muscle in Hans' clenched jaw ticked and Elsa felt an unfamiliar heat pool in the pit of her stomach.

"You might not be ready to admit it, but I am," he said. "You kissed me back and you liked it, and that's what scared you. You have the love of your people, and your sister, and that's all well and fine, I'm sure. But what you felt when I kissed you was -"

"Ugh!" Elsa scowled, cutting him off before he said something that would mess with her head even further. "Don't even think about trying to talk me into believing you're capable of loving anyone but yourself."

Hans groaned and fell to his knees, his spirit looking suitably crushed for Elsa's purposes. Another streak of white rippled through his hair, then another. Still, Hans grabbed the bedpost and stubbornly attempted to pull himself up. Elsa's heart hurt for him, but if she'd learned anything from her experience with Hans, it was that a really good series of lies required an unwavering commitment to the bit.

"Does it hurt?" Elsa asked, plastering a sickening smirk on her face. Hans said nothing, but the answer was obvious. "I'm glad," she said.

She wasn't.

Hans gave up the fight to get back on his feet and sank to the floor. His eyes narrowed with rage, spilling angry tears.

Elsa found she couldn't control the sheer volume of ugly words that had built up inside her. They just kept coming. She knew a large part of it had to do with her never having truly confronted Hans about everything he almost got away with during the eternal winter. But another part of it, an even larger part, was about her desperate need to push Hans as far away from her emotionally as possible, because no matter how he felt about her, or made her believe he felt about her; it wouldn't change how she felt about him. Elsa was repeating Anna's mistake, fully aware of the consequences but unable to stop herself. She was falling in love with Hans, and she was terrified.

"The only connection you and I ever shared was when your sword almost connected with my neck." Elsa said, swaying where she stood and feeling as though she might faint. Trying to keep the freeze under control so as not to give away her true feelings had taken a great physical toll on her. The room wasn't big enough to contain the storm spiralling out of control inside her, so that's exactly where she needed to keep it.

"I don't know why your parents trapped me in here with you," she continued. "Maybe they're too cowardly to execute you themselves, or maybe they're exacting some sort of revenge on me and my kingdom. Either way, the rotten apple evidently doesn't fall far from the tree." Elsa said, feigning apathy by turning away so she wouldn't have to see the barefaced suffering etched into Hans' handsome features as she delivered the final blow. "I met your brothers and they barely acknowledged your existence. Even your own parents want you dead. Maybe your last moments on this earth could have been different, if only there was someone out there who loved you."

"Enough!" Hans cried out, raising his hands to cover his ears. The suffering in his voice was so raw that Elsa could feel it in her bones. Before she knew what was happening, she found herself falling backwards, landing rather inelegantly on her backside to avoid the barbed hedge of ice that appeared in an explosion of snow and frost between her and Hans as though it was an extension of his voice.

_His_ voice. _His_ hands.

Elsa scrambled to make her way around the wide arc of the icy barrier. Behind it, Hans lay on his side, one hand still over one ear, one arm twisted behind his back. She carefully turned him over so that he was resting on his back, gently unwinding his arm and placing it at his side. She began to unbutton his jacket and waistcoat so she could check his heartbeat. That's when she saw it – an azure blue glow radiating from beneath Hans' white, cotton shirt.

"What…?" Elsa whispered, voice trailing off into stunned silence. She threw open the jacket and waistcoat then quickly untied the scarf that was wrapped around his neck. She slipped his braces over his shoulders and tugged them down around his elbows. Despite the dire circumstances, Elsa hesitated before pulling his shirt up under his arms.

_Really, Elsa. This is no time for modesty._

She needn't have worried that her eyes would wander where they hadn't been invited. Once she lifted Hans' shirt, all she could see was the brilliant, shimmering imprint of a snowflake over his heart. Not just a snowflake – _her_ snowflake. She hesitantly reached out and touched it before recoiling, alarmed, when she realized the mark was burned into Hans' flesh like some sort of branding. Elsa closed her eyes against the intensity of its light and laid her head against his chest to listen for a heartbeat, but there wasn't one to be found.

_Hans…_

_I wish Anna was here_. _Anna would know what to do_.

Elsa's chin wobbled as she pressed her lips together to keep from crying. Crying certainly wouldn't do either of them any good just then. "I don't understand what's happening, and I don't know how to help you. This is all I can do," she said, holding out her hand and conjuring a few glittering snowflakes with a flourish of her fingers. "This is it. I can bring snowmen to life, but I can't bring people back from the dead. So you can't die, okay?" she sniffled, the suppression of tears causing an ache in her throat that made it hard to speak aloud.

She bundled Hans back up in his waistcoat and jacket. "Listen," she began, lifting his hand and trying to bend it into a handshake. "I'll make a deal with you – you stay alive, and I'll figure out a way to get us out of here, and we'll…we'll figure something out, okay? I-I'll bring you with me. But I can't do it if you're..."

Elsa let Hans' hand fall back to his side and bowed her head.

"You were right," she said. "I'm a liar. I said there was no connection between us, but that isn't true. We do have a connection. I really, _really_ hate it, but it's there. You were shut out, and I was shut in. You were a boy who grew up wanting one kind of freedom, and I was a girl who grew up wanting another. And here we are, needing and wanting our freedom more than ever. The difference now is that neither of us are alone this time. We can do this together. I just need you to stay with me."

Elsa searched Hans' face for any sign that he could hear her, but there was nothing. "Please, Hans…" she whispered thickly. Defeated, her shoulders sagged and she began to sob, releasing the freeze that had been building up inside her all this time from its shackles to do with her body as it wished.


End file.
